


MatchDs

by sherlockian4evr



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Greg Lestrade, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Bruising, Butt Plugs, Cock Cages, Collars, D/s AU, Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Dom John, Dom Mycroft Holmes, Dom/sub, Dominance, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Kneeling, Light Bondage, Love Bites, M/M, Marking, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play, Rated for future chapters, Sherlock’s a Tease, Soap, Spanking, Stripping, Sub Greg Lestrade, Sub Sherlock Holmes, Submission, Top John, Top Mycroft Holmes, cheeky sherlock, crawling, wartenberg pinwheel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-02-04 17:50:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 11,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12776250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: John seeks out the services of MatchDs to find a suitable sub, but none of the offerings appeal until he is shown the dossier of one Sherlock Holmes, a reluctant sub.Beta read bySherlock1110.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Teaching Sherlock](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4264281) by [Sherlock1110](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110). 



> This fic will not have the scope of Sherlock1110's fabulous Teaching Sherlock. Not only that, but I can't hope to write something so complex in a D/s AU. If you haven't read her work, I highly recommend doing so. It is beyond excellent.

Even as the eager Dom matchmaker, Mark, smiled at John, the doctor pushed the laptop away from him, sliding it across the desk. He ran his fingers through his blond hair. "You just don't have any subs that I'm interested in. They're all too..." he waved his hand at the laptop screen, "ordinary, soft. I need someone with a bit of backbone who can stand up to an ex army captain, not fall to their knees the first time I raise my voice."

"But you haven't even met any of them. Here." Mark pulled the laptop over and pulled up three profiles: two women and a man. "Look at them, eager sub's all. I can arrange for a meeting with each of them. If you'll just..."

"Unless you get someone more intriguing in here, don't call me," John said as he pulled his coat on in preparation for leaving. "You'll just be wasting your time and mine."

As the doctor stood, Mark called out, "Wait!" He exchanged glances with another matchmaker who shook her head. "Why not?" he mouthed at her silently. After all, what could it hurt? "There's one sub I didn't pull up from the listings."

John turned back halfway, looking at Mark with a raised brow. "Why not?" There was an undercurrent to the situation that he didn't understand. "What's wrong with this sub?"

"There's nothing wrong with him, precisely," Mark said as he pulled up said sub's profile. "He's just been... difficult to match." He gave a shrug.

"Difficult... how?" John asked.

Mark glanced back over at the female matchmaker before answering. "Coming here was his brother's idea. The sub says he's not truly interested in obtaining a Dom. He thinks they're... boring."

"Really?" That intrigued the doctor enough that he went over to the laptop to look at the sub's photo. "He's a posh looking one, but he certainly is beautiful." John sat down and read the limited information on the sub, one Sherlock Holmes. He had a feeling most of what he read had been made up simply to disinterest any potential matches with his profile.

John looked up as he jabbed a finger at the laptop. "That one. I want to meet him." He stood again and headed for the door. "Sooner, rather than later, please."

The doctor didn't see the exchanged glances the matchmakers shared. If he had he would have wondered just what he had got himself into.  
\---  
"Piss off, Mycroft," Sherlock said, placing bow to violin strings and drawing out something that sounded like a dying cat.

"Greetings to you as well," the government official said as he leant his umbrella against the wall. He went through to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, ignoring the more than unkempt state of the flat. "I've come on Mummy's behalf. She's worried about you living here alone and uncollared."

The detective leapt to his feet. "I don't need a Dom to run my life. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Mycroft glanced at his brother, noting the large bruise on the side if his face. "Yes, I can see that. Walked into a wall, did you?"

"Don't give me that, Mycroft. You know how I got this," he pointed to his bruise, "whilst chasing a criminal. It has nothing to do with me being a sub."

"And if it did, you wouldn't admit it." Mycroft sipped at the tea he had made. "Go back to MatchDs. Find a Dom. There's one interested in you. If you don't, I shall be forced to take matters into my own hands"

"I'd like to see you try," Sherlock said, drawing himself to his full height.

The government official made a face and poured his tea down the drain. "Don't be childish, Sherlock." He headed towards the door, grabbing his umbrella. "Meet this Dom, Sherlock. It may be your last chance to choose for yourself."

Sherlock stuck out his tongue at his brother's retreating back. What did Mycroft know? He was a Dom. He didn't know what life was like for a sub. Sherlock absolutely refused to kneel for anyone.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock found himself at MatchDs, standing outside of one of the small meeting rooms. In the end he had decided it would be simpler to meet this Dom, this John Watson, than to argue with Mycroft. At least it would get his brother off his back for a bit. He pulled himself up to his full height and plastered his most haughty, disinterested look on his face then he opened the door and stepped inside.

John Watson was stood in the middle of the room in a military stance. Sherlock smiled to himself. It would be all too easy to put this Dom off. “Afghanistan or Iraq?” he asked in a brusque tone.

John’s eyebrows shot up. He had been warned to expect the unexpected, but he hadn't expected what appeared to be an outright challenge. “Sorry?”

In his smuggest tone, Sherlock asked, “Which was it: Afghanistan or Iraq?”

John found himself curious despite the sub’s attitude. “Afghanistan. How did you know?”

Sherlock stepped over to John, trying to loom. “I know you’re an Army doctor and you’ve been invalided home from Afghanistan. You haven't Dommed since you've been back in London. Your psychiatrist thinks it's because you're afraid, that your time in Afghanistan broke you, but it's really because you find most subs boring. That’s enough to be going on with, don’t you think?”

John got a dangerous look on his face and the detective immediately felt the tables being turned on him. It felt like the shorter man was now the one doing the looming.

“That was brilliant,” John told him and he meant it. “But your delivery leaves something to be desired.”

Sherlock’s mouth fell open, both at the compliment and at the wave of dominance that rolled effortlessly off John. “You think that was brilliant?” he asked, fighting not to add a ‘sir’ to the end of the sentence.

“Yes, I do.” John crowded in closer, breathing in Sherlock’s scent, now filled with submissive pheromones. “I also think your dossier is a load of bollocks. You're not a clerk. You'd never be satisfied with that. What do you do?”

The Dom asked it in such a firm, confident and commanding tone that Sherlock had to fight to keep from falling to his knees. He lifted his chin and tried to sound haughty. “I’m a consulting detective. Only one in the world. I invented the job.”

John lifted his chin. “What does that mean?”

“It means when the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult me.”

That struck the Dom as unusually arrogant. This sub needed a firm hand. Still… “The police don’t consult amateurs.”

Sherlock locked his knees to ensure he remained on his feet. “When I walked in, I said, “Afghanistan or Iraq?” You looked surprised.”

“Yes, i still don't understand how you knew.”

The sub felt a bit more in control of himself. “I didn’t know, I saw. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself, says military. But I was told you were a medical doctor, that's not cheating, that's using all available resources, so Army doctor, obvious. Your face is tanned but no tan above the wrists. You’ve been abroad, but not sunbathing. You were wounded in action. Wounded in action, suntan – Afghanistan or Iraq.”

John nodded, impressed once again. “You said I had a therapist.”

“You’re collecting the additional pension for being wounded in action,– of course you’ve got a therapist.” Sherlock smiled his fake smile. His deductions should put this Dom in his place.

“Amazing. Absolutely extraordinary.” John wanted to strip Sherlock and take him on the spot, but he could tell the sub would be quite a bit of work. That was fine. He was determined to have him.

“You think so?” Sherlock asked, taken off guard. He'd never had anyone react that way to his deductions, especially not a Dom. Despite himself, he found he was curious about the Army doctor, but no, he needed his independence, not to be collared by some Dom. He prepared to lash out verbally when his mobile rang.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is rather light as it is a transition chapter. John will let his Dominate side show more in upcoming chapters.

Sherlock turned his back on John and answered his phone. “Lestrade. There’s been a fourth suicide. And there’s something different this time. Where?”

_“Brixton, Lauriston Gardens.”_

Practically thrumming with excitement the sub asked, “What’s new about this one? You wouldn’t have phoned if there wasn’t something different.”

_“You know how they never leave notes?”_

“Yeah,” Sherlock acknowledged.

_“This one did. Will you come?”_

The sub started pacing the small room. “Who’s on forensics?”

_“It’s Anderson.”_

Sherlock grimaced. “Anderson won’t work with me.”

John laughed silently at that. If Sherlock treated everyone the way he had treated John he could understand why someone might take a dislike to him. If the man became his sub, something would have to be done about that.

_“Well, he won’t be your assistant.”_

“I need an assistant,” the sub growled.

_“Will you come?”_

“I’ll be right there.” Sherlock hung up before he heard Lestrade’s ‘Thank you’. He hopped in the air and spun around. “Brilliant! Yes! Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note! Oh, it’s Christmas!”

Sherlock bounded for the door, jerking it open. Halfway through, he paused and looked back at the Dom. After a moment of consideration, he approached him. “You’re a doctor. In fact you’re an Army doctor.”

John nodded. “Yes.”

“Any good?” Sherlock asked.

The Dom bristled. “Very good.”

Sherlock didn't seem to notice, he was so manic. “Seen a lot of injuries, then; violent deaths.”

“Mmm, yes.”

The sub smiled. “Bit of trouble too, I bet.”

John answered grimly. “Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much.”

“Wanna see some more?”

“Oh God, yes.” John was anxious for a bit of action and, truth be told, he wanted to see the sub at work. He had a feeling Sherlock Holmes could get himself into no end of trouble.

Sherlock hailed a taxi and they both got in. John kept stealing glances at the sub, his curiosity burning. After a few minutes of silence, Sherlock stated, “Okay, you’ve got questions.”

John snorted. “Yeah, where are we going?”

“Crime scene. Next?”

“What you did at MatchDs, tell me more about myself,” John challenged. He wanted to see just how good the self proclaimed consulting detective was.

Sherlock held out his hand. “There’s your brother. Your phone.” He accepted it from John. “It’s expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player, but you're an economical man, you wouldn’t waste money on this. It’s a gift, then.  
Scratches. Not one, many over time. It’s been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn’t treat his one luxury item like this, so it’s had a previous owner. Next bit’s easy. You know it already.

“The engraving,” John acknowledged.

Harry Watson: clearly a family member who’s given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man’s gadget. Could be a cousin, but you’ve resorted to a matchmaking service. Unlikely you’ve got an extended family to help you find someone, certainly not one you’re close to, so brother it is. Now, Clara. Who’s Clara? Three kisses says it’s a romantic attachment, sub. The expense of the phone says collared, not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently – this model’s only six months old. The relationship’s in trouble then – six months on he’s just given it away. If she’d left him, he would have kept it. People do – sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you: that says he wants you to stay in touch. You’re looking for a romantic relationship, but you’re not going to your brother for introductions: that says you’ve got problems with him. Maybe you liked his sub; maybe you don’t like his drinking.”

Despite the sub’s tone, John found himself impressed. “How can you possibly know about the drinking?”

"Shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection: tiny little scuff marks around the edge of it. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man’s phone; never see a drunk’s without them.” Sherlock handed the mobile back. “There you go.” He bit his lip, used to the negative reaction he usually got from both subs and Doms alike.

John smiled. “That ... was amazing.”

The sub turned to look at John, clearly surprised. “Do you think so?”

“Of course it was. It was extraordinary; it was quite extraordinary.”

Sherlock blushed furiously and shifted where he sat. “That’s not what people normally say,” he admitted.

Grinning, John asked, “What do people normally say?” He was delighted by Sherlock’s reaction. The sub obviously had an enormous praise kink that had rarely, if ever, been satisfied. He could work with that.

“Piss off’!” Sherlock said, smiling, before he turned to look out the window. He felt himself trying to get hard and he had to get that reaction under control before they reached their destination.


	4. Chapter 4

From the time they had stepped out of the cab, Sherlock had been equal parts foolhardy, rude and absolutely brilliant. In addition, John’s suspicions had been proven correct. He'd been forced to kill a man to keep the reckless sub from doing something incredibly foolhardy. Now they were making their way to Sherlock’s flat. The sub almost seemed to be nearing drop, which was odd since he hadn't been in a scene. John supposed it was the after effects of the adrenaline rush. That being the case, he wasn't about to let Sherlock go home by himself.

When they got to 221 Baker Street, Sherlock just stood there staring at the door. John reached into his pocket and pulled out some keys. He quickly found the correct one and let them in. “Which flat?” John asked quietly.

Sherlock looked at him, blinking. “B. Upstairs.” He thought John was the most handsome man he had ever seen and the doctor was a Dom. He wasn't the typical obnoxious type of Dom either, no, he was interesting. John had actually let him do what was necessary to solve the case. 

With a hand on the small of the detective’s back, the Dom guided Sherlock upstairs where he unlocked the door to the flat. He ushered the sub in and closed the door behind them.

John was uncertain what to do with a dropping sub that wasn't officially his. He thought he should get Sherlock into bed, then stay until he came out of it.

Sherlock had a different idea. He turned to face John, then fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around the Dom’s legs. “You killed him. For me.” It was the only thing the sub could focus on. John, a Dom, had not only assisted him with the case, he had killed for him. It kept repeating in his mind. No one had ever done anything like that for him before.

John rested his hand in Sherlock’s curls. “Like I said, he wasn't a very nice man.” He smoothed Sherlock’s hair back from his forehead. “Let’s move to the sofa, yeah? And you can rest your head in my lap,” the Dom suggested.

Sherlock nodded. He let go of John’s legs, then crawled after him as he went to the sofa. The moment the Dom sat down, Sherlock placed his head in John’s lap. He breathed in deeply, savouring the scent of the older man. It made him feel less off balance and less in need of a hit (the only thing that had ever helped him before when he had felt so muddled).

John was amazed at how the sub seemed to need him and accept him. He wondered how long it would last. If it was up to him, it would last forever. Still, there were so many things they needed to talk about if this wasn't going to be a one off. The Dom sighed. That would obviously have to wait until tomorrow when Sherlock was more himself.

The sub nuzzled John’s cock, trying to urge it to hardness. The doctor pulled him away by the expediency of grasping a handful of curls.

“Sherlock, we can't do this. Not in your condition. We haven't talked.” It had cost John quite a bit to stop the sub. He wanted to take him to bed and take him apart piece by piece. He wanted to punish him, too, for his reckless actions. God, he wanted Sherlock so much.

The sub pulled back and looked up at John. “I'm not that compromised… sir.” He used the honorific purposefully to help make his point. “I’ve never wanted a Dom and, as you know, I've never truly sought one, not even at MatchDs. But I want you, sir, if you’ll have me.” He bit his lip waiting for John’s response.

The Dom felt his cock getting hard as his desire ramped up a notch. “Like I said, we haven't talked about limits or safe words. Then there's punishments to discuss. But if you want a bit of light play, we can talk about the more serious stuff tomorrow.” 

Sherlock nodded frantically. “Yes, that. And my safe word is Sussex.”

John grinned. “Alright then. Let's move this to the bedroom.” He couldn't wait to get his hands on Sherlock’s body. Luckily, he wouldn't have to.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mildly non-con due to Sherlock’s altered mental state.

Sherlock pulled away from John and started crawling towards the bedroom. If he had been more himself he would have found it equal parts fascinating and infuriating that he had chosen to crawl rather than walk. As it was, he was thinking with his hind brain and acting upon instinct.

The sight of the detective crawling on all fours made John want to take him right there, but he restrained himself and followed him to the bedroom.

The rest of the flat has struck the Dom as a complete disaster area, so he was surprised to find Sherlock’s room neat and orderly. He didn't look around much, though, since his eyes were only for the beautiful sub that had knelt up beside the bed. John locked gazes with Sherlock, his breath hitching, and he was drawn directly to him.

The sub leant forward, pressing his face against John’s upper thigh. The room was thick with their mutual arousal. John grasped a handful of dark curls and tipped Sherlock’s head back. “You have too many clothes on,” he observed. Sherlock’s hand immediately went to remove his coat which had fanned out around him on the floor. The Dom brushed his hands away “No. Let me.” Undressing Sherlock was like opening a present, one that he had longed for all his life.

John slipped Sherlock’s coat off of him, then he removed his jacket. He ran his hands over the front of the too tight shirt that had been distracting him since meeting him. The straining buttons gave way beneath his fingers and soon the shirt, too, fell by the wayside. “Stand up,” John ordered, his voice husky. The moment the sub complied, John made short work of Sherlock’s trousers and pants, letting them fall around his ankles where the sub toed them off along with his socks and shoes.

John drank in the sight of Sherlock’s naked form even as he removed his belt. The sub was absolutely breathtaking. He would look even better bound and gagged with his arse nicely cropped, but that would have to wait for another day. He ran the smooth leather of his belt through his hands. “Turn around for me, hands behind your back.” As he used his belt to bind Sherlock’s wrists together, he asked, “Is this okay?”

The sub nodded. “Yes, sir.” In fact, it was more than okay. Sherlock could feel his cock getting impossibly hard and his balls ached. He spread his legs a bit more, enjoying the novel sensation of such intense arousal.

When John had finished binding Sherlock’s wrists, he pulled the sub against him, wrapping his arms around him, and kissed his shoulder. He ran his lips in a line from one shoulder to the other, sucking and laving his way across. “Jesus, but you're beautiful.” He stepped away from Sherlock who whined at the loss of contact.

Mindful that Sherlock wasn't completely himself nor was he in complete control of his faculties, John decided to keep things simple. He would do just enough to fulfil the sub’s very clear need. To that end, he sat on the bed, back against the headboard. “Sit here between my legs,” he ordered, helping Sherlock settle against him.

The sub rested his head against John’s shoulder. Though his arms were uncomfortable where they were bound behind him by John’s belt, he couldn't remember ever being so content. When the Dom wrapped his hand around Sherlock’s cock, the sub let out a low moan. It felt transcendent, just that simple touch. The part of him that had resisted taking a Dom for so long was completely quiet.

John stroked Sherlock’s cock with a steady pace. As he worked him, he kissed the sub’s neck, biting down with measured pressure. Sherlock was so responsive, it was remarkable. If he was any judge…

The sub’s back arched and he cried out as he came over John’s hand in great spurts. The Dom stroked Sherlock through his orgasm, uttering praise as he did so. “Amazing. Gorgeous. Jesus, but you're beautiful like this.”

John held Sherlock for several minutes until he heard the sub start snoring softly. He carefully shifted Sherlock off of him and to the side, where he gently unbuckled the belt from around his wrists and removed it. He took a few moments to look at Sherlock fondly. He would have cleaned him up, but he didn't want to disturb him further. Instead, he settled down behind him and wrapped his arm around him, falling to sleep himself.


	6. Chapter 6

John woke alone in Sherlock’s bed. He immediately worried that his attentions which had been so welcome the night before were no longer seen as favourably in the light of day. He got out of bed and mentally prepared himself to face an angry Sherlock, then he left the bedroom in search of him.

He found the sub in the living room sat in the grey chair with his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms wrapped around his legs. Sherlock’s eyes had a far away look to them as if he was lost in thought.

“Um, Sherlock...” John began.

“There's tea in the kitchen. It should still be hot and just the way you like it.” Sherlock unwound himself and set his feet on the floor. He stared at John as if he was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Right.” John went and got the tea. At least he wasn’t being kicked out. He took a sip and hummed appreciatively. It really was perfect. Turning around, he gave a start to find Sherlock stood not two feet away. “Jesus!”

“Last night, you said we needed to talk.” Sherlock was absolutely looming.

The Dom set his mug of tea down on the side and stood to his full height, letting his dominance come to the forefront. “If you still want to, yes, but not like this. Go get paper and pen, then sit in your chair and wait on me.”

Sherlock gave a shudder at John's commanding tone, his lashes fluttering. He was all the way in the living room before he paused and turned back. “I printed out a standard contract. It has a list of hard and soft limits to choose from as well as punishments to be selected. It also had space to allow it to be tailored. Will that suffice in place of the paper?”

John laughed. “That will do quite nicely. Now sit!” There was no mistaking his last words for anything other than a command.

The detective practically fell into his chair, the contract and pen on the table beside it. He licked his lips, enjoying the way John’s words made him feel. He was still amazed that he reacted in such a manner.

John pulled the other chair close to the sub's so that their knees were almost touching. “Have you filled out any of the contract yet?” he asked, curious.

“Yes, sir,” Sherlock said, passing the Dom the contract and the pen.

John smiled at him warmly. “You don’t have to call me that unless we’re in a scene or you’re being punished.”

The Dom started reading what Sherlock had put down. Most of it was fairly standard. He’d marked his hard and soft limits and marked some punishments as unacceptable. John doubted those punishments would have worked on Sherlock anyway. There were several scribbled notes, most of which surrounded casework. His words protected his right to take cases as and when he chose and above all other considerations.

John looked up after he had read those parts. “I would never come between you and your cases, Sherlock. I hope you know that.”

“If I didn’t, we wouldn’t even be having these negotiations.”

“Good. Good.” John chewed on his lip. “There is one thing... I’d like to add that you won’t go haring off into dangerous situations without letting someone know where you’re going, just a text if nothing else. And I’d like you to take me with you if at all possible. Would you be amenable to adding that to the contract?”

Sherlock thought about it then nodded. Immediately, John added the changes, then he marked his hard and soft limits as well as adding a few creative punishments of his own. When he was done, he handed the contract back to the sub for a final reading.

The detective read over it, raising and eyebrow at the new punishments, but didn’t voice any complaints. He took the pen and signed it, then gave the contract to John who did the same thing.

Sherlock couldn’t believe he had entered into a contract, even with someone as clearly remarkable as John Watson. John, however, was grinning broadly, clearly chuffed.

"One more thing," Sherlock said, hope in his eyes. "Will you move in?"

John wanted that more than anything. "If that's what you truly want, yes." At Sherlock’s smile and nod, the Dom rose from his chair and held out his hand. Sherlock took it and let himself be pulled to his feet. Immediately, John pulled him close for a kiss, tangling his fingers in the sub's curls and pulling.

The kiss shot bright hot tingles through Sherlock, making his knees go weak. He would have fallen if John hadn’t caught him. Soon he found himself steered back towards the bedroom, his body crying out to be taken by his new Dom.


	7. Chapter 7

John stopped with them both beside Sherlock’s bed. “It’s a pity I don’t have my gear with me. I could do such lovely things to you.” The Dom parted Sherlock’s dressing gown and ran his hand down the length of his chest. “I have several ropes and cuffs at home to restrain you with, but I can make do, like we did last night.”

The detective licked his lips. “If I may, sir, I have a pair of handcuffs in my coat. I nicked them off Lestrade.”

It was difficult not to laugh or show admiration for his sub's skill, but what Sherlock had done was wrong and he would have to be punished, but first... “Do you do that often?”

Sensing he was in trouble, the sub bowed his head. “All the time, sir, but I eventually give them back.”

“Go fetch them.” As Sherlock left, John inspected the bed. It looked clean enough after the activities of the night before. He stripped the covers off the bed, leaving only the pillows and the bottom sheet.

Sherlock returned with the handcuffs and offered them to his Dom.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, John ordered his boy to strip. It didn’t take long as all the detective was wearing was his dressing gown thrown over his pants.

“Now turn around for me, boy, so I can put these cuffs on you.” When Sherlock did as asked, the Dom clicked the cuffs closed around his boy’s wrists. He settled his feet firmly on the floor. “Get over my lap then. You need to learn how naughty it is to pickpocket Lestrade.”

Sherlock turned around and settled over his Dom’s lap, his cock hard and aching. He knew what was coming and he wasn’t looking forward to it. So why was he so aroused? It was an aspect of being a sub that he didn’t understand.

“How many strikes do you think you deserve?” John asked in a calm tone.

The sub thought quickly. If he named a number that was too low, he’d only get himself into more trouble, but he didn’t want to name a number too high either. “Twenty, sir.”

“That would be fine if you had only nicked them the one time. Let’s say forty then.” John rested his palm on the smooth white arse and rubbed it almost absently. “I expect you to count each blow and thank me for it.”

The Dom brought his hand down on Sherlock’s pristine arse with a forceful blow that made the sub cry out in shock. Still, he remembered what he had been told. “One, thank you, sir.” Before he could brace himself mentally for the next strike, John's hand came down again.

The Dom listened to his sub count out the second blow, pleased with how this punishment session was starting out. He could feel Sherlock’s cock, thick and hard, pressed up against his thigh.

Several blows on and John knew his sub's arse had to be aching something fierce. It was bright red and with each strike, Sherlock’s feet kicked out at the floor. Not to mention the fact the Dom's hand was screaming unpleasantly itself. Still, his sub counted dutifully through his tears.

Sherlock found himself feeling truly sorry, not that he had nicked the handcuffs, but that he had managed to disappoint John already. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he could have used his hand to hold onto his Dom's ankle. Another point of contact would have been grounding – just one more. He heard himself say, “Forty, thank you, sir,” then braced for the next blow.

John lifted him gently in his arms and stood up. He turned around and placed him face down on the bed with his head turned to the side. “Don't move. I’ll be back.”

When John returned, he had a bottle of lotion he’d found in the bathroom. He sat down next to Sherlock and unlocked the cuffs setting them aside. As he began to rub the lotion into his sub's bright red, aching arse, he spoke. “Of course, your punishment isn’t over. You still have to return the handcuffs and apologise to Lestrade.”

Sherlock groaned. He’d almost, _almost_ , rather take another forty blows.


	8. Chapter 8

John and Sherlock stepped out of the taxi onto the pathway, the doctor paying the cabbie before joining his sub on the steps of New Scotland Yard. He paused for a moment, admiring the black leather of Sherlock’s collar against the pale flesh of his neck.

John had gone out in the early hours of the morning and purchased an inexpensive collar for his sub. Sherlock deserved something so much better, something unique. He was going to find a position as a doctor at a local clinic and save his money for an appropriate collar for his sub. For now, the leather one would have to do. Sherlock seemed to be proud of it, anyway.

Together, they entered the Yard, the detective taking the lead by necessity. He hadn’t complained even once about being forced to return the handcuffs or even about being forced to apologise. He seemed to still be riding on the high of having contracted with John.

When they stepped onto the lifts and the doors closed leaving them alone together, John reached over and brought his boy’s head down for a kiss. “You're doing really well, Sherlock. I’m so proud of you for doing this without arguing.”

The detective felt his knees go weak from both the kiss and the praise. He’d never wanted a Dom before, but that was only because he’d never met a Dom like John Watson. They reached their floor and Sherlock straightened up to his full height, putting his cool mask back in place.

John didn’t say anything, but secretly thought it was cute.

They started across the bullpen to Lestrade’s office, but as they got closer, Sherlock stopped. The DI could clearly be seen sitting on the edge of his desk talking to a man in a three piece suit with ginger hair. The detective did an about turn and headed back towards the lifts. John's strong hand on his upper are was all that stopped his retreat.

“What is it?” John asked quietly, a hint of steel in his voice.

“I refuse to enter that office whilst he's in there.”

“Who?”

“My insufferable twat of a brother.”

“Sherlock,” the Dom warmed, “I won’t have you speak that way about your own family.”

The sub's lips pressed together into a thin line.

“Listen, if you don’t go in there with me right now, I’ll be giving you a spanking at home that you won’t be able to face as stoically as the one I gave you last night. Now come on.” He tugged on Sherlock’s arm and the detective reluctantly followed him to the door of Lestrade’s office.

They didn’t have to knock. The DI looked up and spotted them, his eyes going wide at the sight of the collar around Sherlock’s neck. He hopped down off his desk and opened the door. “Come in Sherlock and... it was Doctor Watson, wasn’t it?”

“John,” the doctor corrected him as he glanced curiously at the other man, Sherlock’s brother.

“Then call me Greg, please.” The DI turned towards the man in the suit. “This is Mycroft Holmes, my Dom.”

Mycroft stepped forward, his hand outstretched to shake hands with John.

The doctor felt like he was being taken apart and examined. The sensation was even stronger than when Sherlock had done it to him at their first meeting. John didn’t like it. Something about the man felt insufferably smug.

“Doctor Watson. I finally get to meet the man behind the dossier,” the older Dom said.

Greg rolled his eyes, wishing his Dom didn’t have to be so dramatic.

“You served your country well in Afghanistan until you were shot and sent back here to London. Of course your therapist has diagnosed you with PTSD, but her diagnosis is happily rubbish. You have a reputation for your sexual prowess across three continents, but you’ve never been in a committed relationship,” here Mycroft’s eyes shifted to the collar his brother wore, “until now. And you have decided to seek employment in your chosen profession. I assure you, you will have no difficulties there.”

“Just who the hell are you, really, beside Sherlock’s brother?” John asked, thinking his sub had been right to call the man an insufferable twat.

Mycroft smirked, causing Lestrade to roll his eyes.

“I merely hold a minor position within the British government,” the older Dom replied smoothly.

Sherlock snorted. “He is the British government, John. Don’t let him fool you.”

“Mycroft, sir, please,” Greg said softly, taking his Dom’s hand. He hated it when Mycroft got like this.

“Oh, Gregory, It’s all in good fun I’m sure. But now, I believe Doctor Watson brought my brother here for a reason. Perhaps we should let him get on with it.”

There was no way that John was going to make Sherlock apologise in front of his brother. “Actually, we came in so Sherlock could give you his full statement regarding the serial killer case. We can come back later if this is a bad time.”

“What? Oh, no, no. Please. Get yourselves some coffee and wait in the incident room,” Lestrade requested. “I'll be right there as soon as Mycroft and I finish up.”

Sherlock didn’t say anything, but followed John from the room, his confusion plain to see for anyone who happened to look his way. He didn’t understand why John had changed his mind about the apology.


	9. Chapter 9

It was only a few minutes before Lestrade appeared in the incident room. He had brought everything with him he’d need to take both John and Sherlock’s statements. “Thanks for coming in. I’m assuming it’s all down to you, John. Normally I have to badger that one for days to get him here.”

John winced, feeling a bit guilty. “Actually, that was an afterthought. I didn’t think of it until I realised Sherlock’s brother was in your office and I used it as an excuse to delay talking to you.”

“Alright,” Greg said cautiously as he set everything on the table. He looked from John who was sitting to the standing detective. “Then why are you here?”

Sherlock wrapped his Belstaff tightly around himself, trying in vain to hide. He was going to be forced to apologise after all.

“I'll let Sherlock explain that to you.” The doctor shifted his gaze to his sub. “You might as well get on with it.”

The detective bit his lip as he ducked his head. Finally he gave a small nod, having made up his mind. “Yes, sir.” He stepped forward and pulled his hand out of his pocket, offering the handcuffs he had hidden there to Lestrade. “These are yours. I’m sorry I took them.”

Greg accepted the handcuffs with no small amount of surprise. “Ah, thank you.” He gave John a grin. “And thank you, John. If this is a sign of things to come, I’m glad you two got together.”

Sherlock glowered at the DI and threw himself down in a chair. It was an act he immediately regretted and a hiss escaped him. He might have endured the spanking with stoicism, but that didn’t mean it hadn’t bloody hurt and his poor arse still felt the after effects.

The DI smothered his laugh as he deduced the reason for Sherlock’s discomfort. He didn’t want to embarrass his young friend despite the fact that Sherlock wouldn’t hesitate to embarrass him.

“Thank you, Greg.” John couldn’t help smile at his sub. He was proud of Sherlock for apologising even if it hadn’t sounded completely sincere and had acted petulant by throwing himself down in the chair. He’d deal with that later after he gave him the appropriate amount of praise.

“Since you’re here, perhaps you could both give your statements.” Lestrade crossed his fingers. It was just so damned hard getting Sherlock in to deal with the paperwork.

“Of course.” John heard his sub huff his displeasure and frowned. “We would be happy to,” he said in his Captain Watson voice as he gave Sherlock a stern look.

Greg struggled not to smile as he saw Sherlock’s ears turn red and he shifted in his seat. It was clear his young friend was very responsive to John even when his desires were in conflict with his Dom's. He didn’t look, but he was fairly certain that Sherlock was halfway hard from John's tone alone. “Thanks. Let’s get this over with then.”

* * *

Much later, Greg had called it a day and had headed home. When he stepped out of the Yard, he spotted the black sedan waiting for him. He smiled and headed towards it, not entirely surprised by its presence. Climbing in, he greeted his Dom, “Hello, sir.”

“Gregory.” Mycroft pulled the DI close and kissed him. “I trust the rest of your day was good.”

“Yes it was.” Greg grinned at the government official. “Parts of it were quite interesting, actually. Why don’t you go ahead and ask what you really want to know? I know you’re dying to, sir.”

Mycroft smiled. “You know me so well.” His expression grew grave. “Tell me what you think about John Watson and his relationship with my brother.”

“I like him.” Greg climbed into Mycroft’s lap. “He got Sherlock to apologise and give my handcuffs back. I never thought anyone could manage that. And the look John had on his face was soppy. He was so proud of him.”

“Mm. But will he let my brother push him around if he was pleased by so little?”

“I don’t think so. Practically the next moment, your brother threw himself down in a chair in a sulk. You know how he does. Not only did John look at him with disapproval, but... it was clear from the way Sherlock winced that he’d had a spanking at the very least at some point.”

Mycroft nodded his approval. “This Watson might be just what my brother needs. Of course, I shall have to interview him myself.”

Greg snorted. “Kidnap, you mean. Like you did me after I met your brother.”

“It turned out beneficial for all involved.” The Dom kissed Greg thoroughly, not stopping until they both had to come up for air.

“Yes, sir. It did indeed.”


	10. Chapter 10

In the cab, John casually reached over and cupped Sherlock’s bollocks. He played with them for at bit, enjoying the pink flush that tinged his boy's cheeks. “I’m proud of you. You did everything I asked of you.” He dragged his palm along the length of Sherlock’s growing erection.

“I... Thank you, sir.” The detective squirmed on the seat next to John and let his head fall back. It was worth everything he had had to do at the Yard to have his Dom touch him like this.

John stroked his pet’s cock a few more times through his trousers, encouraging the arousing feeling to grow. “Of course, you weren’t very gracious about any of it.” The Dom pulled his hand away and rested it primly in his own lap.

Sherlock let out a piteous moan. “But, sir...” He had been good. He hadn’t called a single officer an idiot and he had been polite, well, his version of polite, to Lestrade. It wasn’t fair. The sub crossed his arms and his bottom lip popped out.

With a chuckle, John reached over and pulled his sub down onto his lap. Sherlock stayed stubbornly stiff whilst the Dom carded his fingers through his hair, but finally gave in, let out a long sigh and went languid.

When they pulled up outside 221, John tugged on his boy’s hair. “It's time to go inside, pet. We’re home.”

The detective sat up and blinked a few times. With a chuckle, John threw some cash towards the cabbie, then took his sub's hand and led him from the car. He fetched Sherlock’s keys from the right pocket of the Belstaff and used them to unlock the door, then he guided his boy upstairs after locking the door behind them.

The Dom led Sherlock into the flat and locked that door as well, then guided him to the bedroom. He was amused at how pliable his boy was from just having his scalp stroked and his hair tugged. It just went to show how starved Sherlock was for the attentions of a Dom.

“Strip, Sherlock.” John watched as a bit more awareness crept into his boy's eyes. He was pleased because he enjoyed Sherlock for who he was, not just as a pliant sub. He liked the fire and the challenge that was Sherlock Holmes.

The detective blinked a few more times, looked about the room, then his eyes settled on John. Slowly, but not slowly enough to raise the Dom's ire, he began to undress. The first the to go was his Belstaff which he hung up in the cupboard. Sherlock slipped off his shoes and socks, then placed them under the chair that sat in the corner.

So far, Sherlock had simply followed orders. Now, though, he stood to his full height. It was clear to see that he was fully himself again. He met John’s eyes with a mischievous grin, causing the doctor to smile back in anticipation.

Teasingly, he unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt, then he started on the button that sat just below his suprasternal notch. His long fingers seemed to make love to each button as he worked lower and lower, pulling the tails of his shirt out of his trousers and letting it slide off his shoulders, down his arms. With a half smirk, he folded the shirt and set it on the chair in the corner.

The doctor had to adjust himself in his trousers. He had no idea his sub could be such a tease. He’d remember this show forever... and he’d be teasing him back in his own way soon enough.

Next, the sub unfastened his trousers and bent to take them off along with his pants. He made certain that John had a good view of his arse. He shimmied them off and added them to the rest of the clothes on the chair, then stood facing his Dom with his hands behind his head.

Approaching his boy, John ran his hands over Sherlock’s chest, up over his shoulders and down his arms. “If I hadn’t enjoyed that show so much, I’d give you a spanking for your cheekiness. As it is, you may have to strip for me like that on a regular basis.”

With a quick motion, the Dom grasped Sherlock’s cock. “I want you on the bed with your arms and legs spread out, ready for me to take you apart.”

Sherlock didn’t hesitate at those words. With a 'yes, sir' he climbed on the bed and stretched out.

John grinned. He was going to take his boy to the edge again and again, making him beg for release.


	11. Chapter 11

John had cuffed Sherlock’s wrists to the headboard using leather cuffs and the eyehooks placed there for just that purpose. He stepped back and looked at Sherlock with admiration. “Okay, pet. Just rest there whilst I get undressed.”

Taking his time, John stripped. He felt Sherlock’s eyes on him the entire time. When he removed his pants, Sherlock’s eyes went wide as they always did upon seeing his rather large cock.

Instinctively, Sherlock drew his legs up, knees bent and spread wide apart in open entreaty. He wanted desperately to be taken then and there, but he knew John had other plans in mind. 

John grasped one of Sherlock’s ankles as he climbed onto the bed and pulled Sherlock’s leg straight. He settled himself between Sherlock’s legs and ran his hand along Sherlock’s thigh. “Tell me what you want, pet.”

“I want you inside me, sir. Please.”

John threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, we’ll get there. I promise, you’ll have my cock inside you. I’ll pound you so hard it’ll feel like I’m splitting you open, but I promised to edge you first.”

“Oh, fuck,” Sherlock breathed out, the idea making his words unsteady.

John grasped Sherlock’s cock and pumped it a few times so that it filled out nicely and, when he released it, it stood out slightly from Sherlock’s belly, red and needy already. Opening a tube of lube, John squeezed some out onto his hand and worked it over and between his fingers, then he reached down and stroked between Sherlock’s legs, over his perineum.

Sherlock’s legs fell wider apart and he tilted his hips up. John slid his fingers further back until they encountered the puckered entrance of Sherlock’s hole. He ran his fingers in small circles around it, pressing inward until both of them were sucked in, then he spread them gently, scissoring them in place and turning them until he felt the muscles relax around them.

Leaning forward, John took Sherlock’s cock into his mouth. At the same time, he brushed over his boy’s prostate, both actions causing Sherlock to buck up into his mouth. John used his free hand to hold Sherlock down by the hip and worked to bring him to the brink of climax. As he swirled his tongue around the head of Sherlock’s cock, he continued to massage his pet’s prostate. When the frantic sounds Sherlock was making devolved into pants and moans, John pulled off and stilled his fingers which resulted in a frustrated ‘Fuck' from his pet.

John waited until Sherlock’s cock had lost it’s purple colour, then started again. He kept it up until his boy was a writhing, panting mess, then he stopped again.

“Please, sir. I can’t take this. Please, please, please, sir,” Sherlock begged, his head tossing from side to side.

“Just one more time pet, then you’re all mine.”

After a suitable amount of time had passed, John swallowed down Sherlock’s cock one last time. It didn’t take long for John’s tongue and the prostate massage to bring Sherlock to the brink once more. This time when John pulled off, he removed his fingers from Sherlock’s entrance as well.

Pouring more lube into his hand, John slicked up his own throbbing cock almost lazily. He pumped it whilst watching Sherlock and, when the time was right, lifted Sherlock’s legs up over his shoulders. Lining himself up with Sherlock’s entrance, he pushed his considerably sized cock in with one long thrust, causing Sherlock to gasp as he was filled completely.

Sherlock, forgetting for a moment about the cuffs that bound his wrists, tried to embrace John, but couldn’t. “Oh, god,” he groaned out loud as John began to move inside him. It felt so good, like he was being torn apart in the very best of ways.

When John shifted and his cock stroked over Sherlock’s prostate, he was rewarded by a non-verbal cry of ecstasy that could surely be heard by Mrs. Hudson downstairs. John grinned and pounded into him again, even harder, enjoying the way Sherlock writhed on his cock whilst making delightfully erotic sounds of appreciation.

“J... J... John. Don’t stop. Please,” Sherlock begged, his head twisting from side to side on his pillow. He felt lost in the sensations that he was feeling. Had he permission, he would have come right then, but he held on, not daring to fall over the edge without permission. 

“Hold on, pet. Hold on. I promised I would make feel like you’d been split in two. Do you feel it? Tell me.”

Sherlock had been pushed towards the head of the bed by John's enthusiasm and he didn’t think he had ever felt so gloriously full before in his life. “Yes, John. Yes!”

John grasped Sherlock’s cock and gave it a couple of pulls. “Come for me, pet.”

At last free from all restraint, Sherlock let himself come, his body spasming and his entrance clamping down on John's cock. “John!”

In response, John himself tipped over the edge into orgasm and he pumped Sherlock full of his come before disentangling himself and falling on the bed beside him.

After a few minutes, John released the buckles at Sherlock’s wrists, kissing each wrist tenderly. “I should clean us up.”

“No, stay,” Sherlock said as he enveloped John like an octopus.

John kissed the top of Sherlock’s head, it was the only part of him he could reach, and resigned himself to being used like a teddy bear for the next several hours. It wasn’t a bad prospect. Not at all.


	12. Chapter 12

They had been on the case for the better part of three days. John had watched as his sub had grown more short tempered. It had only been John's pointed look that had curbed Sherlock’s vitriol so far and John knew that wouldn’t keep working forever. That’s why he had come to the Yard prepared. It was a good thing he had.

* * *

John pinched the bridge of his nose. “Couldn't she have just brought home the wrong person.” At Sherlock’s blank look he added, “You know, for a shag?”

“The signs in her flat all pointed to a female killer.” Sherlock rounded on his Dom, glaring. “The world is full of idiocy. Don’t add more to it, John.”

Greg inhaled sharply, waiting for John to explode at his sub. Donovan grinned smugly.

John calmly walked over and took his sub by the elbow. Sherlock tried to shake him off, but his Dom wouldn’t have it.

“Excuse us a moment,” John said, then led Sherlock from the room.

“You said you wouldn’t interfere with my cases,” Sherlock hissed.

“I only need five minutes of your time.” John led his sub to the bathroom then into a stall. “Drop your trousers and your pants.”

“John!”

“Do it. I’m going to give you something to remind you to be polite and respectful.”

“I refuse to be spanked here where I work,” Sherlock said defiantly.

John noted that as something to be discussed later. “I’m not going to spank you, you git. Now drop them.”

Reluctantly, the sub did as ordered. Immediately John took a cock cage out of his pocket and fit it on Sherlock. After that, he took out an anal plug, lubed it generously and worked it into his sub's entrance. With a slap on Sherlock’s arse, he told him, “All done. Get dressed and back to work.”

Sherlock looked dumbstruck as he tucked in his shirt and fastened his trousers. When his Dom had pulled him from the incident room, he hadn’t expected anything like this. He had braced himself for a fight that never came. As he returned to the incident room, he was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the sympathetic look on Lestrade's face or the smug look on Donovan's. Instead, he concentrated on the crime scene photos, his eyes drawn to the victim's right hand. “Idiot!” he shouted in a moment of clarity, and twirled around. “It was her cousin.” Why hadn’t he seen it before? He answered himself: because he had needed John to make his mind stop for a minute and he had done that indirectly in the bathroom.

“Okay,” Lestrade said. “Walk me through it.”

Sherlock looked at his Dom. “I should have seen it before. In all the photos at her flat, the victim was wearing two rings on her right hand. They were antiques. Her grandmother's engagement ring and wedding band.” He picked up a photo that showed the victim's right hand clearly. “Look John. You can still see the indentation from where she wore them constantly. Her cousin thought _she_ __should have inherited the rings.”

John looked at his sub with admiration. “Amazing. Simply extraordinary.” He had to have the most brilliant, astounding sub in all of England, no, make that the world.

Lestrade cleared his throat. “Ahem. We’re still here.”

“Good. Go arrest the cousin. She’ll have the ring.” Sherlock grasped John’s hand. “Take me home, sir,” he said, his voice dropping so that only his Dom could hear him. “Please.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.” John turned to face Greg. “I need to get this one home. I’ll bring him in to make his statement later. After the arrest.” He licked his lips. “Yeah.” He still needed to address his boy’s attitude from earlier, but god he wanted to take him apart and fuck him until he screamed out his name. He would. Definitely. But only after the punishment was over.

Greg tried not to laugh outright but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Alright. I’ll phone you tomorrow. Go on.” As soon as the door closed behind the couple, he burst out laughing.

* * *

In the cab, John shoved Sherlock to the floor between his knees and, grasping a handful of curls, pulled Sherlock’s head into his lap and up against his erection. “Just because I’m incredibly aroused right now, don’t think for one moment that I’ve forgot how naughty you were back there.”

Sherlock mouthed at his Dom’s zip, feeling just as aroused as John. “I’m sorry, sir,” he mumbled, pulling away briefly.

Instead of pushing his boy away, he pulled him closer. “Yeah. That’s a much better use of your mouth, but you better enjoy it while you can, because you won’t like what I have planned for it when we get home.”

Sherlock pouted up at his Dom, poised to argue, but John gave him _that_ look and he chose too keep his mouth shut, well, to keep it occupied, anyway.


	13. Chapter 13

Sherlock was knelt, naked, in front of John who was sat in his favourite chair. John tapped Sherlock’s lips with his index finger and said, “Open.”

Knowing he was in trouble for how he had behaved at the Yard, Sherlock didn’t hesitate to obey, though his eyes shot to what was lying on the table next to John’s chair with some trepidation.

John ran his finger over Sherlock’s lips. “It's such a shame, really. You have such a beautiful mouth. It shouldn’t be used to insult people, especially your Dom.” Sherlock started to say something, but John shushed him. “No. I don’t want to hear a word.” John reached over and picked up the object that had been laying on the table and held it in Sherlock’s mouth. “Bite down on it and don’t let go until I tell you to.”

With his hands at the nape of his neck and his arms held up in perfect posture, Sherlock bit into the bar of soap. The only sign of displeasure he gave was a wrinkling of the nose though the soap tasted hideous.

John leaned back in his chair and watched Sherlock, his hands resting on the arms of the chair. After a few minutes, he spoke. “You are brilliant. Amazing. I love to watch you work.”

John went silent for several more minutes, long enough for Sherlock’s arms to start drooping. He leaned forward and tapped the undersides of Sherlock’s elbows and nodded with satisfaction when Sherlock lifted his arms back into position again.

“As I was saying, I love to watch you work. What I don’t like is being called an idiot.”

Sherlock shook his head violently. He hadn’t called John an idiot. He had said the world was full of idiocy. That wasn’t the same thing at all. If he could only explain...

“I see you still don’t get it,” John said, grasping Sherlock by the curls. “You implied I was an idiot, Sherlock. Think about what you said. Think about it very carefully and when you figure it out, nod.”

Sherlock did as he was told, replaying the moment in his mind, grateful he hadn’t deleted something so inconsequential yet. The world is full of idiocy. Don’t add more to it, John. Ah. His words had been... unfortunate. Mindful of the grip John still had on his hair, Sherlock nodded carefully.

“Good. At least you understand your first mistake. I wonder if you can deduce the second.” John pointed at Sherlock’s arms which were dropping again.

Try as he might, Sherlock simply couldn’t think of anything he had said that had been out of order. The harder he thought, the more he let his arms droop and the more John was forced to remind him to hold his position.

After 30 minutes, John shook his head, disappointed. He leaned in close to Sherlock and gripped the end of the block of soap. “You accused me of breaking our contract, of interfering with the Work. That is something I will never, never do. If anything, I grounded you so you could think better. Now open.”

When Sherlock managed to prise his mouth open, John was left holding the block of soap. It had been bitten nearly in two. Both men stared at it, surprised.

Sherlock, still staring at it, apologised. “I’m sorry, sir. I should have trusted you. You’re an excellent Dom and know what you’re doing.” He blushed. “We might still be back at the Yard if not for what you did. You calmed my mind, sir. And that proves you’re anything but an idiot,” he said, risking a small smile for John's benefit.

John smiled back, content that Sherlock had learned his lesson. “You can relax now, boy. Let your arms rest.” As Sherlock shook the ache out of his arms, John said, “You really were incredible.” He tucked one hand behind Sherlock head and pulled him in for a kiss, intending to make it long and lingering. Instead it was short, very short indeed. John laughed at the bitter taste of soap. “Let's go brush our teeth.” He gave Sherlock a hand up and they went to the bathroom.

Afterwards, they tried the kiss again, much more successfully. When John pulled away, he glanced down to see that Sherlock was already half hard for him, which was fine as John was more than half hard for Sherlock. “I was so impressed with you earlier that all I really want to do now is take you apart and fuck you until you scream out my name. That is, if you’re amenable.”

“Yes, sir. Please.” Sherlock allowed himself to be led to their bedroom and pushed gently onto their bed. By the look in John's eyes, that was the last bit of gentleness he could expect and god was he aroused.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I must admit, the idea of soap came from [Sherlock1110](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110). I thought it was devious in its simplicity.


	14. Chapter 14

John soon had Sherlock tied so that his limbs were spread towards the four corners of the bed. He fetched a Wartenberg Pinwheel and settled between his boy’s thighs. “I know how much you like this. It’s just a little primer to get you going.” Not that the sub needed a primer. His cock was already impressively hard.

The Dom tweaked Sherlock’s left nipple, then watched it rise to a sharp peak. Next he ran the pinwheel over it, criss-crossing it several times. His boy’s chest rose up to meet the wicked device, greedily wanting to feel more of the pleasure/pain that it gave.

Obliging him, John kept torturing the pert nub until it grew red and puffy, then he shifted his attention to his boy's other nipple. He was fascinated by the way Sherlock reacted to the pinwheel. He had tried it on himself once and it had bloody hurt, but the sub absolutely loved it. In fact, his boy was already a writhing mess of need from just the pinwheel alone.

Judging that Sherlock had had all that he could safely take, the Dom tossed the pinwheel on the bedside table. He picked up a couple of clover clamps and held them in his right hand. With his left hand, he grasped his boy’s cock and gave it a couple of strokes. The resulting sounds were broken and needy.

“Sir, please. I need you. Please.”

John chuckled. “Patience, boy.” He shifted one of the clamps into his left hand, then with a practiced motion, placed it on Sherlock’s right nipple. His boy mewled in pain, his cock giving a twitch of excitement. John quickly did the same with the other clamp, letting it bite down on the sub's left nipple.

Sherlock tossed his head from side to side, groaning. He tugged on his restraints, wanting to touch himself, he was so aroused. “John, sir. Please. I need you inside me. Please, sir.”

“All in good time.” The Dom shifted down the bed and bent to suck on Sherlock’s bollocks. The moment John pulled one of his boy’s balls into his mouth, the sub moaned wantonly. He shivered, tingles running up and down his spine. John played with his bollocks, sucking on each ball in turn, knowing what it did to Sherlock. Finally, he hovered above him for a moment before swallowing down the sub's cock.

Sherlock cried out loudly. John laughed around his mouth full of cock, sure that Mrs. Hudson had heard and probably the neighbours as well. Honestly, he didn’t give a damn.

John brought the sub to the writhing, crying edge, then he pulled off. Next, he reached for the lube and squeezed a good amount onto his fingers. John caressed Sherlock’s bollocks, then ran his fingers down over his perineum and at last circled his puckered entrance.

“If you want me to continue, you’ll have to be my good boy. Can you do that?” John asked as he pressed the tip of one finger just inside Sherlock’s hole.

“Y... yes, sir,” the sub stammered.

“Good boy. Now don’t move.” With his unlubed hand, John unfastened the buckles that held his boy’s legs in place. “Bend your knees and spread your legs for me.”

As soon as Sherlock had done so, John set about stretching his boy’s entrance. He worked one finger into him. “Tell me how it feels.”

“Good, sir. More, please.”

“Impatient git,” John said fondly as he worked in a second finger. He scissored his fingers, stretching them, then he crooked them just so, causing Sherlock to cry out. The Dom just laughed and added a third finger, fucking his boy with them and being certain to hit his prostate on every other thrust.

John removed his fingers, knowing Sherlock was ready. He lined himself up and impaled him with one thrust.

The sub cried out and tried to wrap his arms around John, forgetting for a moment that his arms were bound. He rocked beneath his Dom as thrust after thrust shifted him upwards on the bed. He heard nonsense words being spoken and realised he was the one speaking them. He felt like he would come apart under John's ministrations. All he could do was wrap one leg around him and hold on.

When Sherlock came untouched, it was with John’s name on his lips. He kept repeating it like it was his one anchor to reality.

The Dom tipped over the edge into orgasm at the cry of his name, shuddering through it. When he was done, he kissed Sherlock’s face all over: forehead, eyelids, nose, cheeks, lips. Then he collapsed in bed next to him, completely sated.

“One moment, boy, and I’ll remove those cuffs,” John panted.

Sherlock nodded, too satisfied and completely knackered for words. He closed his eyes and fell asleep. When he woke up, he had been cleaned and cared for, his arms unbound and nipple clamps removed. How he'd slept through their removal, he'd never know. In the peace of the moment, John held him gently and all was well.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter provides a dose if mystrade. If that's not your thing, feel free to skip it.

The moment Greg got home, he was slammed up against the wall by Mycroft and pinned there with his hands above his head, he hadn't been expecting it, but it was more than welcome. “Mycroft? Sir? What's brought this on?”

“Your report on Sherlock and John from earlier today. It looks like I won't have to worry about my brother.” The Dom nipped at Greg's earlobe. “That means I can concentrate more time on you, pet.”

The sub's knees went weak. It was only Mycroft's grip on him that kept him from falling to his knees. His cock had already got hard in his trousers, and he was aching to be touched.

The government official flipped Greg around and slammed him against the wall face first. “Don’t move.” He quickly reached around and unfastened his pet's trousers, then worked them down Greg's thighs along with his pants.

“Look at you, pet,” Mycroft said hungrily. His eyes were on the glass butt plug that filled the DI's entrance. “You’ve worn that for me all day just like I wanted.” He reached out and touched it, running his finger around the smooth rim.

Greg moaned and pushed back. He was eager to have the plug removed and his Dom's cock inside him. “Please, sir. I need you.”

“Such an eager little cock slut.” The government official pressed his mouth to the side of Greg's neck just above the black band of his collar and placed a love bite there. At the same time, he reached down and removed the plug that had kept his pet nice and open for him all day. “I’m going to fuck you now, and you’re not going to come until I give you permission. Is that clear?”

“Oh, god,” Greg moaned. “Yes, sir.” It felt incredibly good when his Dom slid inside his loose and sloppy hole. There was no burn whatsoever, just a smooth glide from the lube that had started to leak out of him. Soon Mycroft was pumping away, thrusting hard and unrelenting.

The Dom bit down on Greg's shoulder and didn’t let go for a long time. It satisfied something deep inside him, knowing he was leaving a mark that would bruise. He also gripped his pet's hips tightly. They would bear the marks of his fingertips. He knew his sub relished these things as much as he did so indulged in them shamelessly.

The more Greg moaned the harder Mycroft thrust. He made sure to strike his pet's prostate on each inward stroke and relished the way the sub clenched around him.

“Tell me how good it is, pet,” the Dom ordered, still pounding into Greg.

“Oh, fuuuck. It's so good, sir. So good.” The DI had his palms pressed against the wall. He wanted desperately to reach down and stroke himself but daren’t. “You make me feel like I'm flying apart, sir. Please, sir, may I touch myself?”

“No,” Mycroft growled. “Keep your hands where they are.” He redoubled his efforts, driving himself dangerously close to orgasm. He had to still himself for a few moments and will himself back from the brink. “When you are filled with my come, I'm going to plug you back up; then we're going to move to the playroom for round two.”

Greg let his head fall back on his Dom's shoulder. “Oh, god, sir.”

Having regained control, the government official resumed fucking his sub. He stepped them back from the wall and reached around him to grasp his cock and started stroking it in time with his thrusts. He could feel Greg trembling against him. It gave him a sense of control that was delightful. “Beg me to come, pet.”

“Please, sir, let me come. I need to come, sir. I need it so badly. I can only come for you, sir. Please. Please, please, please.”

Mycroft kissed the side of his sub's neck. “Come for me,” he ordered.

The DI came with a cry of Mycroft's name on his lips. He clamped down on his Dom's cock hard, driving him over the edge into orgasm as well.

The government official shuddered through his climax, burying his face in the nape of Greg's neck. Once he had ridden it out, he pulled gently out, bent to retrieve the glass butt plug, and seated it inside his pet. “Gregory, you were amazing,” he said, turning the DI around to face him. He kissed him ling and slow before pulling up his pet's trousers and fastening them. He took Greg's hand. “Shall we?”

Together, they went to the playroom where they spent an eventful evening.

**Author's Note:**

> I read and treasure every single comment I receive, but I'm totally crap at responding to them. Please know that they fuel me. Thank you in advance.
> 
> If you want to podfic or translate this or create a drawing based on it, go for it. Just please let me know and link back to my fic.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://shippingintothenight.tumblr.com) or @sherlockian4evr on Twitter.
> 
> Find out how my muse is doing at [My Other Tumblr](http://sherlockian4evr-status.tumblr.com).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Cover for "MatchDs"](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354065) by [Drawn Lines (sherlockian4evr)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/Drawn%20Lines)




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